


desperado

by jxniberries



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, Oral Sex, Quickies, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, basically jdkshf it's been 10k years for our lady, i'm fucking DISGUSTING i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-24 17:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxniberries/pseuds/jxniberries
Summary: the tension is there, and they're well aware of it.but only rarely do they get to indulge. and who is he to deny the princess?





	desperado

**Author's Note:**

> everyone's always talkin about rift sex and as much as i LOVE it to death, how come nobody ever mentioned lotor fucking allura against the sincline while they were working on it together smh
> 
> this takes place during 6.2, but the garrison trio never interrupted them!
> 
>  
> 
> p.s.: i wrote this while listening to desperado, so i recommend u do the same ;)

With Lotor having issued a castle-wide order not to bother either him or Allura “until further notice,” they’ve been able to work tirelessly on the Sincline for vargas. Allura focuses primarily on channeling her quintessence and utilizing her knowledge gained from Oriande to enhance the ship, and Lotor monitors both her physical wellbeing and that of the Sincline from the holoscreens of his vambrace, stopping her intermittently to adjust the ship’s terminal programming to their needs. Their conversation, though friendly, is infrequent and less idle chatter than it is business, as they focus on the task at hand.

It works for them. Mostly.

(Allura learns very quickly that manipulating quintessence does not, in fact, grant her immunity from her thoughts wandering wherever they so please.)

Despite the fact that their time together thus far has been relatively short, she’s found herself inexorably drawn to Lotor, in ways she cannot fathom to explain to anyone. It feels like they were made for each other; that long, long ago, it was written somewhere in the stars that they would find one another. Their circumstances at present are less than agreeable, she’s still grateful for having met Lotor nonetheless.

Lotor complements her. He challenges her. Trusts her.

But most importantly, he inspires her. In every possible way.

She wonders, briefly, how she’s gotten to be so lucky.

“Your father, King Alfor, was a gifted alchemist, whose unique ability allowed him to infuse the Voltron ore with Altean energy,” he muses aloud, with no shortage of wonder in his voice, “granting it  _and_  the paladins access to the quintessence field.

“Now  _you_ , Allura, possess that same gift.”

Even with her back to him, palms pressed flat against the ship’s body, Allura can feel Lotor’s gaze on her and she flushes. Feeling uncharacteristically small, she lifts her hands from the ship while it absorbs her residual quintessence, and turns around.

“Our visit to Oriande has taught me more than I ever thought possible,” she says, approaching him slowly. “Thank you.”

Lotor chuckles, striding forth to take both of Allura’s hands in his. “No, thank  _you_ , Princess. With your help, we can finally supply the empire with unlimited quintessence.” Giving her hands a gentle squeeze, he offers her a tender smile. “ _You_  are the key to bringing peace to the universe.”

“Peace.” She lingers on the word, lets it sit on her tongue. It’s almost foreign to her now, after how it’s been lost in the grand scheme of things. It almost seems unattainable. “My father wanted the same thing when he built the lions. It is an honor to follow in his footsteps and continue his work. And…

“To do so alongside you.”

“Like the days of long ago, our royal alliance will inspire others.” Lotor presses a kiss to each of her hands, and with her cheeks tinted a light rosy color, Allura lets herself be pulled flush against Lotor’s body.

He’s gentle, almost hesitant in wrapping his arms around her as he kisses her, slowly, though it doesn’t take long for them to become absorbed in each other. Lotor’s lips, though chapped against her own, are warm and taste faintly of the  _mithrin_  tea they’d shared earlier and Allura greedily tugs him closer, taking the liberty in kissing him harder.

It’s certainly not their first kiss by any means; amid their budding romance, stealth has very much become second nature to them. It’s fleeting touches whenever they can, stolen kisses while turning the corner. It’s late night messages through their secure comm link, lascivious gazes in front of  _everyone_ during Coalition briefings. The tension is there, and they well aware of it.

But only rarely do they get to  _indulge_. 

Indulgence is so rare for either of them that even now, after all this time, the kiss is messy and awkward with forehead banging and teeth clashing. They’re all desperate moans and wandering hands, stumbling across the platform until Lotor finally pushes Allura up against the ship’s hull, her armor colliding against metal with a startling clatter. They jolt away from each other for a split second, dissolving into a fit of quiet laughter before Lotor dips his head back down. 

When his lips touch hers for a second time, Allura’s entire being  _truly_  comes alive; she surges forward with a renewed purpose, arms enveloping Lotor’s frame in a firm embrace. The kiss, though still slightly clumsy, fans their flickering sparks of passion into a wild flame and in that moment, between the two of them, they _know_ there is no containing it. Lotor pins Allura against the wall with a muffled groan and he breaks the kiss only to speak, keeping his forehead pressed against hers. "I want you," he breathes, "right here, pinned up against the hull while I _fuck_ you. Do you want that, Princess?"

“ _Please_.”

It’s all the confirmation he needs.

Their third kiss is more calculated, though no less dizzying than any of the others. Any lingering inexperience is abandoned as Lotor groans, deep and throated against Allura’s lips, sliding his hands up along her sides to cup both sides of her face.

It occurs to her then just how much taller he is, to the point where even standing on her tiptoes is hardly enough to reach him. In a rush of something—adrenaline, maybe?—she slides the inside of her leg up against Lotor’s thigh, wrapping it around his waist. He doesn’t need to be told what she wants. Without hesitation, his hands slide down to cup her ass, giving the supple flesh a firm squeeze through the nylon of her flightsuit before he hoists her up easily, securing her other leg around his waist and pressing her more firmly against the ship’s exterior.

“Lotor,” she breathes against his lips, his name thick like sweet honey on her tongue. “What if— _mm—_ someone catches us?” It’s a futile attempt at caution, because Allura’s own body betrays her as she presses her hips firmly against Lotor’s, gyrating slowly. Already, she can feel his cock against the apex of her thighs with a delicious throb, and a quiet hiss slips past her lips. Lotor groans, catching her lower lip between his teeth and whispering, 

“You don’t seem to mind,  _Princess_.”

There’s no room for Allura to argue because they  _both_ know that he’s entirely, one-thousand percent correct; she  _doesn’t_  mind being caught, not by any stretch. The Princess of Altea, pinned against a wall while the Galran Emperor ravishes her however he pleases?

It’s the stuff of her wildest fantasies. 

For a while, they’re content in just kissing each other; memorizing the feel of each other’s lips after having gone without for so long. Allura’s body falls into rhythm with Lotor’s naturally, arching toward him and pressing her chest flush against his while he grinds his hips against her crotch. Even through their armor, he is warm against her and she moans greedily, feeding off the heat radiating off him.

Lotor holds onto Allura securely as she begins to peel away her armor, removing first her breastplate, then her arm pieces, and finishes by kicking off her greaves. One by one, the armor unhinges with a quiet hiss, and Allura tosses the pieces aside to some distant corner of the platform. She does this while still kissing Lotor, and once she’s able to comfortably unzip her own flightsuit and shimmy out of it, begins to make quick work – or at least, she  _tries_ to – of Lotor’s armor. It’s more complicated than her own and she parts the kiss with a frustrated whine, to which Lotor chuckles. 

It takes her long enough, but she manages to get to where she wants, with Lotor’s suit pushed down to his hips and her own thrown aside somewhere. The floor below them is littered with an array of armor pieces long forgotten in the throes of passion. Lotor keeps one hand under Allura’s ass while his other slides deviously along her naked torso. His fingertips draw light, indecipherable patterns against her skin, tracing along the outlines of her intricate markings and drawing out quiet sighs from Allura’s kiss-swollen lips. His own lips latch onto the base of her throat, sucking and nipping at her skin and covering every bit of her neck that he can with deep, purple hickeys, ones that she’ll have to take care in covering later. He continues his onslaught down to her breasts, where he takes great pleasure in also pressing kisses there.

“ _Gods,_  Lotor, I want-- I- I want—”

“Use your words, sweet thing,” he coos, cupping one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing lightly and taking her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger to give it a gentle pinch, to which Allura mewls. “What is it that you want?”

“Your mouth,” she breathes, “ _Stars_ , I want your  _mouth_ , Lotor.”

With the same ease it took to pick her up earlier, Lotor lifts Allura higher so that she’s now sitting on his shoulders, his face mere inches away from her flushed,  _glistening_  pussy. She yelps from the proximity, her skin erupting in gooseflesh all over when Lotor starts by pressing soft, butterfly kisses along the inside of her thigh. Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair as he breathes hotly against her cunt, and a shuddering moan escapes her when his tongue flicks against her clit.

“You’re already so  _wet_ ,” he says, and it’s meant to be teasing, though there’s no hiding the hint of awe in his tone. Allura’s cheeks darken a deep red, and before she can say something snarky in reply, Lotor leans forward and encircles her clit with his lips, giving the bundle of nerves a firm suck.

Allura’s legs quiver on either side of his head and she  _cries_ , gasping for air as she begs him to do that again.

And who is he to deny the princess?

Lotor busies himself with sucking her clit and reveling in the sweet,  _sweet_  sounds it pulls from Allura’s throat. Flattening his tongue, he licks a long, slow stripe along her slit. Lotor takes his time in eating her out; he commits every part of her that he can to memory, picking up on what places she especially enjoys, what  _really_  makes her cry out for him. It doesn’t take long for Allura’s entire body to start shaking, her moans rising in volume as she treads dangerously close to the edge of insanity.

“I’m—oh,  _sweet ancients_ , I’m so close, just like tha— _ahh—_ t,” she moans, hips bucking forward against Lotor’s face. “Please, Lotor, I’m going to—!”

Allura comes undone then, suddenly, and with a blissful cry, the force with which her orgasm washes over her knocking the breath out of her as she rides it out with Lotor’s mouth still buried against her. He stops only when she jolts forward from overstimulation and nearly falls, and Lotor leans back with a shameless grin, tangible proof of her pleasure dripping down his chin.

“You taste _delicious_ ,” he croons, careful in lowering Allura so that once again, she’s secured around his waist. She’s trembling from the aftershocks, but manages a breathless chuckle as she presses a sweet kiss against Lotor’s lips, moaning at the obscenely erotic taste of herself on his tongue.  

He uses a single hand to push his flightsuit down as far as he needs to expose his cock; keeping one arm wrapped around Lotor’s shoulders, the first thing Allura does is spit in her hand and reach down, wrapping her delicate fingers around him and stroking him slowly.

Lotor’s cock is different than any Altean she’s ever been with, though it’s been so long she can’t even be sure anymore. It may as well be her first time all over again. Ridged along the underside and with an already swollen knot at its base, his shaft is nothing short of remarkable and Allura wonders, fleetingly, if it’ll even fit inside her.

His hips rut forward with every languid motion of her hand, and a cross between a shaky sigh and a groan leaves his lips. Guiding the head of his cock to her slit, Lotor stops just before he can enter Allura and meets her gaze. It’s tender, reverent, overflowing with unadulterated affection that’s a stark contrast from the steadfast confidence she’s seen from him thus far.

“Are you sure about this, Allura?” he asks, suddenly shier than she’s ever seen him. “Are you sure about— about  _me?”_

Despite her mildly frustrated whine, Allura cups Lotor’s cheeks in her hand with a smile, swiping the pads of her thumbs across the high points of his cheekbones. Pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, she whispers, "I’ve never been surer of anything else.”

Lotor wastes not a second more before he buries his cock inside her, as much as she can take until his knot is flush against her. He’s  _big_ , bigger than she’s used to and Allura just barely muffles a joyous scream in the crook of Lotor’s neck, and his own knees almost buckle underneath him. It’s hard, with how hot and wet and unforgivably  _tight_  she is around him, but Lotor stays stock still, not moving at all until Allura directs him to.

When she does, Lotor curses under his breath and draws his hips back slowly, almost torturously so, before snapping forward and drawing out another blissful cry from Allura’s lips. He repeats the motion once, twice more before deciding to set this pace for a while, wanting to focus more on just making Allura feel good; he focuses on her body language, her facial expressions, the sounds she makes when he finds  _that_  spot inside her.

“How does it— _ah_ —feel, Princess? Do you like the way my cock feels inside of you?”

Before Allura can conjure up a half-intelligible reply, she tosses her head back with a shameless, drawn out moan of Lotor’s name and that’s all the answer he needs.

They know they should try to be quiet, they really do, but there comes a point where Lotor’s thrusts become more intense, his hips slapping up obscenely against Allura’s while fucking her, and they unabashedly throw caution to the wind. Someone's bound to have heard them by now and though they probably should care at least a little bit, neither Lotor nor Allura can bring themselves to.

Not  _now_.

“Lotor, Lotor _please_ ,” Allura begs, her voice wavering, “please, don’t stop, _don’t stop_ –oh,  _yes_ _!_ You’re so good, it feels so  _good_ \--!”

“You sound so— _oh—_ you sound beautiful,” Lotor groans, locking eyes with Allura for a few short moments before he kisses her, half in an attempt to quiet her down, and half just  _because_. He can’t possibly get enough of her – and even this, being buried inside Allura, he finds, is hardly enough.

Allura’s clawing for purchase wherever she can, at every bit of Lotor’s body she can latch onto as her back arches toward him. Crescent-shaped dents litter Lotor’s shoulders, mirroring the ones Lotor’s claws leave on her ass, and she cries out brokenly, drunk off the indescribable pleasure he’s giving her.

“ _Lotor_ ,” she gasps, right by his ear, “knot me,  _please_ —”

He slows down, then, despite Allura’s whine in protest. “Allura, are you sure?”

She nods, and as if to cement her unwavering certainty, Allura tightens around Lotor’s cock experimentally, to which he curses, rushing forward to kiss her again while he teases her with his knot.

It prods at her entrance and it takes some coaxing, but eventually his knot slides inside Allura with minimal resistance, her cunt swallowing it eagerly and engulfing it in its warmth. The slight burn afterward is intoxicating and Allura sobs, scratching her nails across Lotor’s shoulders. She feels so unbelievably full around him, and the pleasure building and collapsing around her is so maddeningly good that she can’t even manage a single thought beyond Lotor.

He consumes every part of her she has to give – and she lets him.

“There you go,” he drawls teasingly, his hips thrusting forward unforgivingly and drawing out as many cries as he can from her lips, each of which he swallows with a bruising kiss. “Look at you take my knot, princess, there you go.  _Gods_ , you’re so good.”

Lotor waits until she’s adjusted to him again before he retreats, sliding against nerve endings that buzz and hum from the overwhelming pleasure, before driving home and burying  _every_  inch of him inside her so deeply that it forces tears to her eyes. Head falling into Allura’s shoulder, Lotor groans, and his breath is hot against her skin the entire time he whispers obscenities against her. Allura feels the corners of Lotor’s lips curve upward into a grin just before he drives his cock impossibly deep into her, wrenching yet another a desperate cry from her lips.

“I wonder what the other paladins might make of this, hm? Their princess— _ah, Allura_ —being fucked against a ship? Taking the Galran Emperor’s knot, no less?”

A pathetic whine coaxes it way out of Allura’s throat and she trembles, sliding a hand down her front to rub quick, tight-knit circles against her  _aching_  clit. Allura can almost taste yet another euphoria building on the tip of her tongue, and even though her eyes are very much open, all she can see is a blinding white; Lotor’s thrusts are erratic, but angled to perfection and pressing against that  _one_  spot against her that drives her to madness.  

“I love it, oh-- Lotor,  _Lotor,_ ** _fuck_ , **I’m so close,  _please_ , keep going, I—I’m going to come, Lotor, you’re going to make me  _come!_ ”

“Then  _come_ , princess.”

All at once, as if on command, Allura’s entire world explodes into a flurry of colors, and she’s in a state of both shock and frenzy from the ecstasy of such a high. Her throat aches pleasantly as she calls out for Lotor, begging him still to  _keep going, don’t stop, give it to her right there._ Her entire body tightens as she spasms around him, her head reeling as Lotor continues on, managing to outlast Allura by only a few ticks more before he, too, submits to his release with a guttural moan. 

There’s a rush of tingling warmth all over Allura’s body when Lotor fills her, her cunt squeezing down around his shaft to milk every last drop of him that it can. They stay like that – breathless and heaving – for a dobosh or so, enough for them to come back to their senses. Lotor kisses Allura lazily and she welcomes it with a tired hum. They’re too out of it to say anything substantial, so they convey everything they could ever hope to say with that single gesture.

It works.

“I can’t feel my hips,” Allura jokes eventually, still shivering occasionally as Lotor adjusts his grip on her. He slides out of her with a quiet groan and laughs, peppering her face in soft kisses.

“I can’t say I’m particularly sorry for that,” he teases, to which Allura playfully whacks his shoulder.

Lotor is careful in setting Allura back down onto the ground, and for the first few ticks she can barely stand upright on her own, her legs wobbly beneath her as she tries to take a step. Though he quite enjoys the ego boost it gives him, Lotor dutifully keeps his hand resting on the small of Allura’s back as she bends down to pick up her flightsuit – at the very least, she  _does_  need to put it on. Even if she doesn’t want to.

They dress relatively quickly, somehow more worried  _now_  about being caught than they should’ve been a few doboshes ago. With his suit zipped back up, Lotor comes up behind Allura and wraps his arms around her, hands sliding up her front to rest just under the curve of her breasts.  

“You know, Princess, I think it’s high time we conclude for the day,” he murmurs, burying his face in her hair. “We can continue tomorrow.”   

If, to "conclude for the day", he  _also_  means the hardness still poking the small of her back, Allura leans back against him with a grin, placing her hands on top of his.

“I agree.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so fucking gross and have no shame and im sorry
> 
> come scream at me on twt @/jxniberries !


End file.
